Letum Libellus
by SkywardShadow
Summary: Thus endith this story of the Death Note-and its owner. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters in it.

--x--

**Letum Libellus**

--x--

He enters his darkened house, removes his tie.

Keys rattle as they are tossed uncaringly onto the nearest available flat surface. The door shuts, lock clicking firmly into place.

With a groan he settles into a chair in front of the television, and switches it on.

It's been a difficult day at work. His co-workers seem to get more ignorant every second they are in his presence, and his new boss is impossible to describe kindly, least of all without including several swear words in the description. The man is horrible to everyone, but particularly him. Possibly because he is the only one intelligent enough to pose any threat to the older man's job?

He glances to the side, through the open drawer of his (messy) bedroom, to his dresser. He knows what lies in wait inside the bottom drawer, buried beneath a multitude of questionably clean underwear and unquestionably dirty, mismatched socks…

He wrenches his gaze away. He's gone years without using it; the habit is all but broken completely. Tempting as it is to use his old notebook against the person tormenting him, as it had been when he was younger, he attempts to force the notion out of his mind.

He watches the flickering TV screen without really taking anything in; he's too distracted. He knows just how close his thoughts now lurk to the temptation, and tries to deny the fact by focusing on something else.

His wandering gaze lands upon a picture in a small sliver frame. It was taken about a year ago. It's a photograph of him and Ellie, smiling like they are the luckiest people in the world.

She moved to Japan from America a few years ago; they met and started dating. And now they are engaged. A grin spreads across his tired face-soon, very soon, he'll have his own family, and a home much cleaner than this because he would even brave his chaotic sock drawer if it meant keeping her happy.

He lies back in the chair, feeling considerably more cheerful, and begins to drift off.

But seconds later, he realizes that something is horribly, awfully wrong.

Pain grips his chest, clenching his heart like an iron fist. It just gets more intense.

He stumbles out of the chair toward the phone, which is on the kitchen table. But he doesn't even manage to take three steps before collapsing hard on the floor, twisting around in agony.

His breathing is getting difficult, and he's panicking. He's dying, he must be, but how?

_And for God's sake, __**why**__?_

He glances up and sees, standing over him, a creature that would make any other human just about die of fright. But he has been living with the creature for many years, and does not react as such.

"R-Ryuk-?"

The Death God chuckles; a low, somewhat cold sound. The man on the floor pieces together the truth with horrified eyes. Fear.

"Y-You..did this to me.."

"Yes." No remorse, no feeling. Just a calm statement of fact.

"_Why_?!" he cries.

"It's simple," the creature called Ryuk explains coolly. "You're boring now. You haven't killed anyone in years; the notebook just rots away with your dirty socks. And now you're going to get married-well, do you think I want to sit around for however many years while you waste your life raising little human brats?"

"But-but you could have said-" He breaks off with a gasp.

Ryuk continues as if there was no interruption. "If you were going to give up the notebook, you would've done it already. You're obsessed with the power, but too scared to do anything with it. Typical human, really. I met you when you were young, and I thought you might be different from most."

Another dark chuckle. "But no. You're just the same as every other pitiful-though interesting-human in this world. And I didn't want to be stuck here with you. So I stole a page from 'your' notebook; wasn't hard.."

The dying man meets the Shinigami's eyes imploringly, with eyes that are filling with tears. He opens his mouth to speak, and each word is a struggle.

"But..why…_now_?" he whispers. Tears escape and stream down his face. "I was...g-going..to be married…why..nn.."

Watery eyes shed no more tears; all life flees from them, leaving them black and empty.

The Death God stares down expressionlessly at the still young man he has just killed.

Then he turns and goes to reclaim his Death Note, touch it for the first time in years.

He feels no remorse, only a faint twinge of regret for the end of the human he had hoped would turn out more..interesting.

He takes the Death Note and returns to his own realm, to face the monotony and boredom once more.

_Huh…wonder if I'll ever find a human tough enough to keep using the notebook.._

--x--

July 5th, xxxx.

Taro Kagami, 25, is found dead on the floor of his apartment.

Cause of death has been listed as a freak heart attack.

--x--

_**Finis**_

**A/N: Yep, it was Taro. Letum Libellus means Death Notebook, by the way. -SS**


End file.
